Then Sleep Well
by artemis.maiden
Summary: Daryun guards Arslan's sleep. Vague Daryun/Arslan, if you want to see it that way.


Days turned into weeks turned into months of tightknit travel, Daryun had come to know the meaning behind every glance, every gesture, every tone of voice of his young charge intimately. The pair had always been close – His Highness had a way of inspiring loyalty that Daryun had immediately found himself drawn to – but thrown even closer together by necessity, Daryun felt he knew the prince better than he now knew himself.

For his own safety, there was scarcely a moment when Arslan was either out of sight or at the most out of earshot, and whenever there was, Daryun caught himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. The upshot was that he seemed to have developed some kind of sixth sense wherever Arslan was concerned; if Arslan was weary, or restless, or anxious, he did not need to speak or even so much look in Daryun's direction for the Marzban to know of it.

It was these thoughts that came unbidden to mind when Daryun awoke late one night. He lay still, carefully listening out for any sound that was out of place, not knowing what had caused him to wake. He was alone, though not far away, guards patrolled the corridors of the small castle stronghold their party was currently occupying. Their host, a short, portly man who had long since retired as any kind of soldier, had fallen asleep hours ago after too many goblets of wine, and Daryun considered him covetous but non-threatening. His men, barely enough to sustain the stronghold without outside support, had seemed as happy as their master to receive Arslan as their honoured guest. The low creak of leather armour as these same soldiers kept watch over the castle was all that Daryun's sharp ears picked up, not a single breath nor a footfall where there should not have been.

Still, Daryun could not relax. Wide awake now whether he wished it or no, he pushed back the bed coverings and stood, taking a moment to gaze out the window. The sky was still dark, though he judged it to be closer to morning than evening. Though there was as yet no sign of it, dawn would not be far away. Since there seemed small point in attempting to sleep now, he dressed silently, his fingers sure even without the aid of lamp or candlelight. If he was to be awake anyway, he might as well be doing something of worth.

The pair of guards at their station near Arslan's door jumped when Daryun's figure emerged from the shadows, but looked glad enough to be relieved of their posts an hour or two earlier than expected. They stumbled willingly away at Daryun's assurance that he would take over until daylight, already yawning and eager to snatch some extra sleep.

Daryun, his sword a familiar and comforting weight on his hip, waited until the corridor had grown still again before putting his ear to the door, checking again for anything that was not exactly as it should be. Yet though he heard nothing out of the ordinary, he could not banish the sensation that something was wrong. It brushed at him until, still debating whether it was worth potentially intruding upon His Highness' rest to act on nothing more than intuition, Daryun gave in and soundlessly eased open the door, intending simply to ensure with his own eyes that all was well within.

Arslan was a dark, unmoving shape against the softer darkness of the night, and Daryun could tell by his breathing that he lay face up, unaware and undisturbed by Daryun's presence. Easily ascertaining that nobody else was in the room, Daryun made to withdraw, but a quiet groan halted him in his tracks.

He did not debate with himself this time before crossing the room in several swift strides, propriety taking second place to concern. Now at his prince's bedside, Daryun could make out Arslan's features more clearly. His hair, unbound in sleep, lay pale across the pillow, and his eyes remained closed, but Daryun could hear Arslan's breath catch in his throat, too sharp for proper rest. One of his hands, lying above the coverlet, was clenched tight as though in pain or fear. Daryun bent closer, uncertain now of what action to take.

He was saved from having to make a decision when Arslan gasped, his eyes snapping open and his body jerking upright too suddenly and too quickly for Daryun to pull away.

"Ow!"

Daryun scrambled up from the floor where he had been knocked unceremoniously down, an apology bubbling to his lips as his hand automatically went to his forehead. He would, some part of his mind comprehended vaguely, have a bruise the following day.

Arslan was rubbing his forehead too, grimacing in discomfort and blinking confusedly at the sight of Daryun, embarrassment suffusing his cheeks with red, staggering back to his feet. "… Daryun?" Surprise, but not censure, coloured his voice, slightly husky still from sleep.

"It is I, Your Highness," Daryun confirmed, then cleared his throat self-consciously. "I… Sire, I apologise, I didn't mean-"

"Is there something wrong? Are we under some sort of attack?" Arslan made as though to get up, his face showing his alarm, and Daryun placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

"No, nothing like that. You… I should not have come, but you appeared to be dreaming, and I thought…" He was not accustomed to being at a loss for words, and though he knew it was not he who had been responsible for disrupting Arslan's slumber, he felt oddly flustered.

"Ah." Arslan stilled, his eyes shifting away from Daryun's face. "Did I wake you?"

"Not at all," Daryun promised, though he was sure of no such thing. "Do you… are you alright?" He searched Arslan's expression, prepared to leave at the merest hint that his presence was unwelcome, yet loathe to do so if he could be of any use or comfort.

Arslan gave a wry laugh. "Yes. Yes, I'm alright. But trust you, Daryun, to try and help me even when I dream."

Daryun relaxed slightly, smiling back at the obvious sincerity of Arslan's words. "Is it something you wish to talk about?"

Arslan shook his head. "It's nothing. I no longer even remember what it was that I dreamt. Perhaps your head served as the perfect distraction," he added a little teasingly, and in the gradually lightening dimness, Daryun was glad his darker skin hid his blush.

"Well," he said into the quiet that followed. "I should return to my post then. Please, try to rest again for a time, Your Highness. It is not yet dawn." He offered a formal bow and turned to depart.

"Daryun."

He paused by the door. "Your Highness?"

There was no note of playfulness now in Arslan's voice, and this time he met Daryun's gaze unflinchingly. "I sleep better knowing it is you who are the one to guard it."

"… Then sleep well, Your Highness."

The door clicked shut behind him, but the sudden hush of the empty corridor, the gloom of the final hour of the night, could not sap the warmth blossoming in his chest.


End file.
